Darling Niki: Dream Man's Return

She said her name was Nicki. She came to play and her body was sick yeah. She kill when she walk, so sexy when she talk. Oh... ya know she gonna blow ya mind... Okay- NICKI!

Niki put all her body and soul into the new Nicki Minaj joint, Blow Ya Mind, much to the delight of the audience before her. The regulars were tossing heavy dollars tonight much to her delight. As the song pulsed heavily through the speakers making everyone within its reach shake and grind to the impressive beats, Niki executed several killer moves on the pole that drove brothers and sisters alike wild. She was wearing the hell out of a pair of denim shorty shorts with a camo bikini top and matching thigh-high stiletto boots. Her hips pumped back and forth to the rhythm as a rain of strobe lights flashed behind her. She was determined to wipe the image of last night's dream from her mind and her body.

It had been a painful two weeks since her memories had started filtering back. All that having happened when Troy, her no good, but fine ass husband, had fucked her in the backroom of the Dick and Bunny. Her heart had not been prepared for the revelation. Her mind was still trying to wrap around it. And her body was certainly rebelling against her. What was supposed to have been a quickie with a stranger who resembled her Dream Man, ended up becoming a breakthrough in her amnesia. Only it hadn't been a happy memory, but a horrible one. She had remembered that Troy had admitted to being unfaithful to her, which had made her bolt from their home on a rainy morning into a disastrous car accident, which had stolen her memories - good and bad. The fucked up thing was she should be hating the ground that Troy stepped on with every fiber of her being, but after that night and last night's dream, she was convinced that it was not going to be easy.

She craved him badly. Her nipples were at a constant attention, which forced her to stop wearing her nipple rings, and she was finding herself wringing out her panties whenever the memory of what they'd done in the back crept up on her. Hell, even now as she gyrated on the pole, she felt a distinct tremble in her spine. Fuck him, she growled in her head as she threw herself into her work in the hopes that she could forget how her body kept humming to life at the very thought of Troy's hand on her.

Damn, there goes another flashback of last night's dream.

He was standing in the middle of a room with a hand calling out to her. He looked so damn fine in a pair of well-worn jeans and nothing else. His bald head glistening and sweat pouring down his chest. He looked tasty. She could feel herself growing thirstier and thirstier by the minute. Her clit, the fucking traitor, was beating an intense rhythm against her folds that she was compelled to answer. She reached out and felt his muscled chest, feeling the smooth indentations of his abs against her palms. He was so tight. She leaned forward, placing tiny kiss along his sternum before lowering herself to her knees to worship at his fleshy altar. Her hands found and fondled his package from the outside of his jeans, already aware of what awaited her inside. Impatient, she tugged at the denim revealing his dark flesh to her.


"I want you bad," Troy rasped in that deep sexy voice of his.


"So do I," Niki smirked wickedly, taking his member into her mouth. She sucked as if her very soul depended on it. Her tongue glided from root to tip and back again, savoring the spice of his body against her taste buds.


Unable to control himself, Troy snatched her up from the floor and wrapped her long legs around his naked waist. He leaned her up against the wall and began to thrust himself deep inside her slick walls. Niki felt a gasp rush from her lips as she took him in. He felt so good and so right. Their lips locked into a passionate embrace that could not be broken, each drawing a breath from the other, as he pounded away on her aching pussy. Her arms were locked about his body, riding and grinding against him as if they were trying to start a fire. Suddenly, her hands weren't the only ones pawing at her Dream Man. Glancing behind his back, Niki came face to face with herself, the old Tracey. Surprised, she watched as her dumpy doppelganger busily slobbered on the back of his neck and felt up on his ass like some desperate, neglected housewife.

Of course, that's how she had felt back then. Neglected. Ugly. Desperate. The dream had been some twisted menage a trios with herself. It was at that point that Niki had snapped out of her strange dream with a gasp and a shiver. Fuck, she needed to see the shrink again. More importantly, despite the passion he had made her feel in her dreams, she was even more determined to get Troy out of her system.

Okay - NICKI!

From the bar, Blu watched Niki with admiration. She was so glad to have her working the stage. If it hadn't been for Niki, she'd still be dancing for dollars her damn self - and at her age. Please. Thankfully, she was now able to enjoy her club with pleasure rather than obligation and make a tidy profit on the side. However, for the last week or so, she noticed that Niki had been throwing herself more into her work since the other night when a handsome, tall glass of hot chocolate had come through the door. Blu had heard from the other girls that Niki had done the oddest thing and taken him in the backroom; something she never did - ever. But more equally strange was she had heard from her husband, Red, that Niki had stormed out of said backroom an hour later and out of the club with nothing more than her kimono robe and a mad grill.

Blu had tried to get the story from Niki herself, but the dancer had refused to go there; saying that it had been a horrible mistake on her part. But Blu hadn't been convinced. There was more to this. She could tell by Niki's song selections during the week, which were a majority of sexy love anthems like Keri Hilson's The Way You Love Me, Kelly Rowland's Motivation, and Robin Thicke's Sex Therapy. That hot chocolate had something to do with Niki's past and for some reason she wanted nothing to do with him, yet everything to do with him. Red had warned the security team to keep a look out for the dog, but Blu wasn't sure that was the smart thing to do. She was determined to get to the bottom of the issue that was for sure. In fact, she was going to do it right now before her next set. Just as she was heading for the dressing rooms, a uniformed officer stepped into the bar. It wasn't so much the uniform, but the man in it that gave Blu pause. He wasn't one of their regular boys-in-blue, who'd drop in from time to time. In fact, he was a tall cup of hot choc-- Hold up now. She redirected her steps to the man and grilled him up and down.

"Good evening, officer," she greeted sweetly. "May I help you?"

Troy looked passed the woman to peer at the stage, where Tracey was working the pole. He knew this was a bad idea, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. Since that night, he'd gone to bed with a hard on that just wouldn't stop, begging for the release only she could give. In fact, at this second, he could feel his soldier stand at attention as he watched her shake her booty all up and down the stage. It was like kismet when his captain had asked him to do a prisoner transfer into this particular county. Otherwise, he'd have no reason being on her turf. Especially, after she had practically threatened him to stay away. The woman, who'd spoken earlier, had to finally clear her throat to get his attention.

"I don't think you can help me, I'm looking for - " he began glancing back at the stage.

"Niki Rochambeau?" she finished with a knowing smile. A hungry look had been filtering into his eyes since the minute he had walked in. That look alone had drawn the old gal in. She had been around enough to know an overly aroused man by just looking at him.

"Tracey Gusto," he corrected sternly with a smooth baritone that shook her. "I'm her husband and I've been looking for her for awhile."

"Mmmm-hmm," Blu groaned crossing her arms over her big breasts protectively. "Seems like she didn't want you to find her. What'chu do?"

"If it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'd like to deal with my wife myself," he stated firmly.

"Seems like you've done a terrible job so far," Blu threw back with a twist of her neck. "Look, I don't want no trouble and you're out of your jurisdiction by the glimpse of your badge. So, tell you what, you tell me what went down and I'll see if it's worth my getting you a little face time with Niki."

Troy studied the woman carefully and made a determination that she might be willing to help. There was something about her that said she could be trusted. What did he have to lose? Taking a deep ragged breath, he began to explain what had gone down; from his one-night stand with his co-worker all the way through to his one-night stand with his wife. During the recounting, Blu had raised her brows a couple of times in surprise, but maintained her cool and objectivity. She glanced over at Niki with a clearer understanding of why her employee was now killing herself on the stage since that night two weeks back. Niki was running from this steamy batch of chocolate, instead of dealing with the issues they'd had. Niki had been through quite a lot in the last year and a half as she tried to piece her life back together. Sometimes, after the club closed to the public, she and Blu would open a bottle of wine in the hopes that a memory or two would fall out. Neither one of them had ever expected a memory as handsome as this one to come falling out of nowhere.

However, on the opposite token, hot chocolate looked real contrite over what had happened. He appeared to love his wife, despite what she was currently doing, and wanted her back. Her heart actually ached for him. Here he thought his wife was dead, probably felt it was his fault, and now that he had found her and they had shared the best sex of their lives, she ups and remembers why she was running from him in the first place and promptly tells him to go fuck himself. Damn. This was sticky. Blu chewed her lip in thought. Niki was her girl and owed her loyalty, but big man here deserved at least a chance to make amends. With that reasoning in place, Blu resolved to lend him a hand. Red would probably kill her for doing this, but she had a soft spot for chocolate.

"Look, you may not wanna come around here since my husband's got a kick-ass-on-sight-order on you," she warned walking over to the bar to grab a pen and pad to scribble on. "Here is where Niki lives. Take this personal shit outta here. Despite what we do, this is a place of business. She gets off at 1 a.m. By the look of her now, she'll be home by 1:15."

Troy glanced down at the paper, then Blu. Gratitude flowed from his dark brown eyes.  "Thanks," he stated before starting to walk out of the club.

"Look, don't make me regret this," she called after him. Watching him leave, she uttered to herself, "God, I hope I didn't make a mistake."


Niki strolled out of the backstage door over to her black Ninja motorcycle. She was looking forward to the wind massaging her tired muscles as she cruised back to the crib. Her body was wrecked and she was tired as all get out after the show she had put down. The night had been her most lucrative, but it had not done the real job of clearing her thoughts of Troy. At one point, while dancing on the stage, she swore the police officer who'd come in was him, but she'd only got a glimpse of his back. Fuck, she thought as she slid on her helmet, now she was starting the see things. She definitely needed to pay a visit to the shrink. However, Po-po did look good though. Maybe he could've helped her forget her cheating ass husband once and for all. Taking hold of the handle bars, she straddled the bike between her legs and kicked up the engine. She only prayed for a restful sleep tonight.


Troy waited in his black Navigator for Tracey to come home. The brownstone and surrounding block looked homy; a stark contrast from her work environment in the metro. There was even a flower box outside her window with a pretty array of flowers. He chuckled to himself recalling that Tracey had always had a green thumb. Every spring she was outside digging out weeds and clearing her flowerbeds, preparing for the new season. He had missed seeing her in her sun hat planting a new batch of ivies. The landscaping had truly suffered in her absence. Overgrown weeds and splotchy grass greeted him, despite his paying the neighbor's kid to keep it up for him.

The sound of a motorcycle bending around a corner drew him out of his recollections. He watched as the driver expertly pulled up on the sidewalk before Tracey's house. Then suddenly, his body immediately reacted to the cyclist. He quickly unbuckled his belt and jumped out of his truck in one swift motion. Hastening his steps, he watched as she dismounted from the bike gingerly. Her body was clad in a fancy black fitted motorcycle jumpsuit, complete with matching helmet. She looked so damn sexy, it was driving his libido haywire. All he wanted to do at that moment was snatch her up and tongue her down. She was in the process of removing the helmet when he came up on her.

"Tracey?" he called out to her tentatively.

Niki startled as she whipped around to face Troy. "What the fuck? How the hell..." she stuttered trying to keep her heart from jumping out her chest and her pussy from jumping out of her pants. She was never going to get used to how fine he looked in reality compared to her dreams.

Troy stood with his hands stuff in his pockets. He knew if he had them free he'd already be dragging her against his solid body. He had invaded her turf again, but he was desperate to see her. That night in the club couldn't be the end. He needed her. The two of them just stared at each other, heat transferring through the air. The tension began to mount and Niki was feeling like she was suffocating. Suddenly, as if remembering why she shouldn't be standing near him, Niki snatched up her helmet and proceeded to her door, officially dismissing him. However, Troy was in no mood to be done that way. He quickly reached out for her arm, only to have her snatch it back. In response, she swung her hand back to slap him, only to have him grab her wrist and drag her to him.

"What, Troy? What do you want?" she snarled, burning her hazel eyes into his dark, smoldering ones.

By pure instinct, his lips crashed against hers and the passion began to ooze out of them both like a sexual truce. The helmet in Niki's hand fell to the ground in a loud thud. Her fucking body was betraying her big time and she was at a loss of what to do. She wanted to scratch his eyes out but at the same time she wanted to ride his dick like a rodeo star. This was horrible timing for Troy to show up now, she grumbled to herself. It was the witching hour and it was her weakest moment during the night, when she'd clamor the walls looking for release. There had been many a night that she had tried relieving the ache herself to no avail and here he was now willing to fill her need.

I'm so angry at you, she growled to herself. I want to kick your ass... Just let me get my head right.

Unaware of the turmoil raging inside her head, Troy swooped her up in his arms and carried her up the steps to her door. Taking the keys from her hand, he unlocked it smoothly and entered her home. In the foyer, he slowly let her feet dangle down, but continued to hold her against his body, all while closing and re-locking the door. He gently pressed Tracey against the wall, letting her feel what her body was doing to him. His erection was hard pressed against his zipper, which he was sure was leaving indents in his manhood. He hadn't realized how bad he had wanted his wife, until tonight.

"Tracey -" he began to moan against her lips.

"Uh-uh," Niki declined pulling away from his mouth to stare at him. "You can't call me that. If we do this then you call me Niki. Period."

Troy stared into her eyes and could see her defenses were mounting. If he wanted to relieve this ache, he had to do her bidding. Touching her face sweetly, he nodded his agreement to her term, then picked up where he had left off. Confident that he wouldn't bring up the past at the present, Niki relaxed enough to enjoy what he was so willing to give. Troy trailed a blaze down her neck as her nibbled and sucked his way down her frame. He immediately found the jumpsuit zipper and was tugging it downward, causing Niki to smile to herself at the surprise he'd find underneath. When he pushed the jumpsuit open, she heard his ragged inhale at finding her completely naked. He immediately went for her breasts and began to suckle them like a starving man. His hot tongue laved her body into a fevered frenzy as Niki worked his Bomber jacket over his shoulder, tossing it to the floor, before reaching for his pullover shirt next.

"Where's your bedroom?" Troy demanded pushing the leather material down her body.

"Down the hall, straight ahead," she answered, kicking off the remainder of the suit.

Troy hoisted her back into his arms and began to devour her mouth. Her tongue played wickedly with his ducking and licking every recess of his mouth. He entered her bedroom and instinct led him to the California king toward the middle of the room. He laid her down open the firm mattress, then stood up to remove his jeans and kick off his Lugs. Niki pulled up on her elbows to watch him. She was chastising herself for doing this, but it wasn't like she was falling for the man. It was just sex. Plain and simple. At that second, Troy was staring down at her with heat filling his eyes, which pooled an equal measure of heat into her quivering core. Okay, maybe it wasn't that simple, she thought.

Kneeling onto the bed, Troy pushed Niki's thighs apart to get at the hidden trinket. Since that night, he had a craving for another taste of her; to feel her womanly essence cover his tongue. Lifting her hips slightly, he treated himself to the silky wine she naturally provided. She was tangy with a hint of sweet mixed in. Despite the hard work out she had put in on the stage earlier tonight, she smelled fresh and heady. Niki writhed to and fro as Troy went to work on her clit. The feeling of his tongue swiveling over her sensitive areas was driving her over the edge. Moans slipped from her lips in a crescendo of praise for a job well done. If the night at the club been off the chain, this was fucking fantastic.

Niki reached down for him, her patience no longer complying, and pulled him over her body. Her lips immediately locked with his, drinking in her own juice from off his tongue. Her arms wrapped about his neck, as her legs wrapped about his waist. Troy pulled her up against his frame and slowly eased himself inside her walls. Tiny gasps huffed from her lips as she took him in. Niki had distinctly remembered being sore the next day after their tryst in the backroom and it was hard to believe he could've gotten any bigger since then. She could feel her puss tighten around his shaft, molding itself. His hands lifted and dropped her against his hips as he rolled and waved against hers, setting an incredible rhythm she was compelled to follow.

"Mmm, Troy," she sighed against his neck, her nails digging into his back.

"Scream for me, baby," he rasped against her ear.

Niki could feel the tremors of her body creep up on her. Her legs were starting to shake as an orgasm began to tear its way through. A passionate cry resounded from her lips, tossing her head back in the impact. Troy increased the pace and found he was not far behind his wife as a growl ripped from him. He could feel the juice of his body filling her insides with his need as they descended back down to earth and reality. Troy laid tender kisses along the column of his wife's neck, drawing her back to him. They slowly fell to the bed in the purest exhaustion and disbelief, but those feelings soon faded into deep sleep - a dream-free sleep for Niki at last.


The next morning, sun blazed through the curtains of Niki's bedroom as she sat at the edge of the bed staring at the man laying in her bed. She had woken with his arm possessively draped over her body and his dick still firmly planted inside her body, which hadn't bothered her in the least. She was at a complete loss of what to do now. She was still so angry with him, but the anger was yielding to the passion she had once felt for him and their life together. Everything had gone wrong after they had had their son. She had felt she had lost her swag, which had yielded feelings of  neglect. And when he admitted to what he'd done, she had plummeted further down her spiral of low self-esteem. Now, here she sat with a new life longing for the life she had with her husband and their son.

Thinking on their son, curiosity now drove her to pull his wallet from his pocket searching for photos. She immediately came across their wedding photo, which she studied quickly before moving to a picture of an infant boy. Nikolas, she smiled to herself. Desperate for a more current photos, she pulled up his iPhone and found even more current photos of the little boy. He had her eyes, but looked exactly like Troy. God, he looked like a little man now, she thought. He wasn't a baby anymore. Time had moved on in her absence and it was painful. Tears began to sting her eyes at the realization she had missed so much.

When she hadn't been thinking of Troy, her memories would drift to this little face. She had started remembering how she would wash him, change him, read him bedtime stories, cuddle him at night when he cut a tooth. She remembered the first time she had heard him say Momma and how it had made her heart soar, because he had said it with such love and awe. God, she'd give anything to hold him again. Would he remember her? Would he shy away from her? She swiped at the tears running down her cheek, then taking a ragged breath she started to put the picture away.

"You can keep that," Troy told her softly. "You don't seem to have a lot of personal pics around and I got more at home."

She drew it to her chest preciously before saying, "Thank you."

"Do you want to see him?" Troy asked tentatively, hoping she'd say yes.

Niki shook her head sadly. "He won't know me. I'm not the mommy he knew. She's gone."

Troy reached out for Tracey and dragged her to his chest to comfort her. Sobs began to tumble from her as she tried to reconcile her thoughts. "He'll know you, Trac-Niki," he assured her. "Every night, when I put him to bed, we hold your picture and tell you good night."

"But that's the old Tracey, he knows that lady. The fat mommy who made cookies and tucked him in at night," she stammered pulling away from him to stand by the window. "What happens when this lady shows up? The tricked out stripper chick with the motorcycle."

Troy stared at the woman before him and tried to find the answer. She was definitely a very different person now. Gone was the self-conscious, slumped shoulder wife who he'd hurt with his one-night stand, replaced by a powerful, self-confident woman, who flew by the seat of her g-string. But no matter who she was, he still loved her, desired her. He wanted to know this new Tracey and get the old one back, too. He wanted her to be able to get her life back, even if she thought it was impossible. Rising from the bed, he joined her at the window. Touching her shoulder lightly, he turned her about.

"Tracey, it's gonna take time," Troy said, softly. "I won't let you go this time. When you're ready, you can come home and see Nikolas."

"Troy, I think it would best if our son never knows about me," she stated firmly, pulling out of his strong arms. "As far as he understands, Momma is gone and she's never coming back. And as far as I'm concerned, last night never happened and you can never come back here. You know you way out. Go!"

With that said, Niki marched to the bathroom and slammed the door. Troy heard the lock bolt and the shower turn on. Frustrated, he wanted to do nothing more than run over and bash the door in, but knowing it wasn't smart to push this new Tracey, he decided to back down and regroup. Snatching up his clothes, he pulled on his jeans and boots. Throwing his shirt over his shoulder, he turned to leave calling back a promise to the woman behind the door, "I will be back, Tracey! This ain't over!"

On the other side, Niki sat on the bathroom floor with her back against the door, allowing the steam of the shower to consume her. Tears ran unchecked down her face as she listened for the front door to slam shut. Her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. She would give anything to piece that life back together, but she'd taken another path that didn't include a husband much less a child. She wasn't ashamed of who she was, but for a child whose mother was an exotic dancer, they were oftentimes ridiculed by adults and kids alike. At least, she had heard enough tales from the other girls to know. Besides, she just couldn't see herself giving up something she'd felt so good about doing. The dancing had helped rebuild her self-confidence, her life, and brought her so much joy.

"Oh, Niki, what you gonna do, girl?" she sighed, pressing her chin to her knees.

Lessons from a Seductress

Nathan Briggs sat nervously in the violet, velveteen loveseat with his hands folded neatly in his lap, waiting to be called up the plushly carpeted grand staircase. The foyer was dark with dim candlelight glowing all about. The windows were covered in long, fiery red drapes, keeping out the light of the full moon. The house spoke of old world sophistication with access to 21st century technology. Along the mahogany walls were both small and large flat screen monitors, playing an array of erotic movies, which Nathan tried his hardest to avert his eyes. He could hear a piano playing a jazzy little ditty while a ruckus of laughter boomed from just beyond the double French doors. He couldn't believe he was sitting in such a sinful place, but the situation he was currently in had pushed him here to seek advice from the world renowned courtesan, Calypso Jones.

Jimmy Dean Carlson had recommended her services to him. He knew Nathan had been a bit of a spot with his wife, Cora. Unlike Nathan, Cora was a woman of the modern world. She had enjoyed a certain variety of lovemaking that Nathan had not been accustomed nor introduced to in all his 33 years. Doggy-style was as racy as he could get, but he loved his wife of two years dearly and would do anything to please her, including seeking the help of this lady-of-the-evening.

"Mr. Briggs," a female voice called to him from one of the monitor's. "Ms. Calypso will see you now. Please mount the staircase before you and take a right at the top. She'll be waiting in her private parlor on the left."

Nathan rose from the seat tentatively before whispering, "Thank you."

Dabbing a dry hanky over his damp temples, he mounted the steps as directed. As he rounded the top of the stairs, his footing began to falter. He wasn't sure if he could do this. A man of his Christian upbringing could not possibly find help with this sinner of a woman. Maybe he should try the Reverend Abernathy again. Then he remembered the last time he and Cora had sought the good man's help and the disastrous consequences. Cora wouldn't speak to him for a month. He recalled how angry she had gotten when the good reverend had dained to tell her that she needed to be a little more submissive in the bedroom. She threatened to pull their tithings if he every so much as mentioned such drivel to her or anyone else in the church again. "That wasn't advice, that was foolishness," she had grumbled on the car ride home.

Nathan had met his wife just as she had completed a stint in the rehab center sponsored by his church. He worked as a volunteer on his days off from the family flower shop. He helped the patients channel their energy into growing plants and learning about horticulture as a means of stress release. It was on one of those days that this beauty of a woman came through the class door and snatched his heart away. He quickly took to Cora, but being a soft spoken man he had respected her space. Cora, however, had instantly fallen for the tall, dark and handsome brother and made it known. She quickly introduced herself and started asking questions - more like flirted. After that, they were inseparable.

He had helped her find housing and a technical school to help her learn a new skill, which had turned out to be hairdressing and styling. She was the best hairdresser he knew and her salon was always packed from sun up to sun down, Tuesday thru Saturday. She had a mind for business and a heart of gold. Every Sunday, she helped the mothers of the church with the soup kitchens and clothing drives. He was proud of her all accomplishments, but he knew she wasn't happy with their bedroom relations.

He knew that Cora was no virgin on there wedding day and she had been open about as she called it, her wicked past. However, the only thing that had troubled Nathan was that he had only known bits and pieces of her past, not everything. Cora didn't have any family that he knew of and the friends she had were the ones she had met either through the church or the salon. It was like she was running away from some secret. He wondered if maybe there was something there that kept her from being happy with him in the bedroom. If he could figure out what she wanted, he knew he could make her happy.

Sighing at the thought, he was startled out of his daydreaming by the elaborately carved door. Figures of men and woman in a classic orgy filled the framework. He sighed again heavily as he reached for the penis shaped doorknocker, beckoning for entrance.

"Entree," a deep, uber-sultry voiced called from beyond the door.

Nathan slowly entered and was immediately blown away by the figure standing by the open window. She was sex personified in its rawest form. Her long raven hair hung in voluminous waves down her back, framing her sun-kissed face and toned shoulders. If she wore make up he could not tell, for her face was as clear and clean as fresh linen and her lips were the most natural hue of rich pink, moistened by the faintest gloss. She wore a long, sheer violet dress that trailed behind her elegantly. The decolletage hung low revealing a hefty pair of bosoms that kept Nathan enraptured. He had fully expected her to be wearing a whore's true uniform of corsets and garters, but she appeared innocent and fresh like a virgin. Only her seductive, bedroom eyes pegged her for the experienced courtesan that she was.

"Mr. Briggs, I assume," she purred slowly coming away from the window sill to shake his hand. "I'm Madame Calypso. How may I serve you, sir?"

Nathan cleared his throat before attempting to answer. "Madame Jones, I've come seeking your help with my ... um ..."

"Marital difficulties?" she finished with a nod and smile. "What is your trouble?"

"My wife, Cora, is looking for more variety in the bedroom and I'm afraid that my lack of - um - experience has left her - ahem - dissatisfied," he stuttered shyly.

Calypso processed his dilemma thoughtfully and could tell that the man truly loved his wife, which wasn't easy. By the look of him, he appeared to be a bible thumper not a bed stomper. She noted the crisp clean suit jacket of dark blue paired with white pants and matching shoes. His pale blue bowtie seemed elegant against his crisp white shirt. His hair was neatly trimmed close to his scalp with a thin veil of sheen to make it moisturized, or was that merely perspiration? He looked gentle enough, but taught properly he could bring out his inner bedroom thug. She had quite a task ahead of her, if what she had been told was true. But he was not the first nor the last to come to her for advice. Taking his hand gently, she led him to the cluster of high-back chairs by the large fireplace. Indicating he sit down, Calypso took the seat directly across from him. She studied him some more as he looked about her private quarters.

The Salon had been bequeath to her by her great aunt, Lucille, who had been Charlotte's preeminent madame of her time. Her great aunt refused to call it a brothel or whorehouse or a house of ill-repute. It was a home of self awareness and a palace of unbridled release. Lucille had actually refused to allow patrons to use their business to cheat on their wives or girlfriends. Their clientele were men or women who sought to express themselves with their bodies beyond the norm. Lovers would often come knocking on the speakeasy type venue seeking the wisdom of the house madame or one of her certified seductresses.

"Mr. Briggs, what has you so uncomfortable with sex?" she asked bluntly.

Nathan stuttered uncontrollably, "Excuse me?"

"Sex. What makes you so uncomfortable?" she asked again, leaning forward.

"I grew up in very religious family who was very conservative about such private things," he explained. "Sex, in their belief, is just a means of begetting children."

"So, there should be no pleasure in creation?" she teased. "Sounds so Puritan."

"My wife's sentiments exactly," he answered, swiping his head with the hanky.

"What about your wife? What has been her experience with sex?" she asked pointedly.

"Cora hasn't mentioned any past lovers, but she appears to be more qualified than I in the experience," he explained with a blush. "In fact, I was the virgin on our wedding night."

This piqued Calypso's interest. "So, she deflowered you," she smiled, then almost to herself, "How fitting."

Calypso studied Nathan closely again, then rose from her chair to approach him. Nathan grew nervous at her proximity and scrutiny. She leaned forward slowly allowing the loose decolletage to fall, revealing her breasts to him. For a dark man, he could sure blush. Her hand gently touched his face searching his eyes deeply. She could feel more sweat forming beneath her hand as she watched his eyes try to pull away from the sight of her naked chest. She took his hand and tugged him from his seat, forcing him to stand before her. Then she proceeded to walking around Nathan taking in his massive frame. He was a hulk of a man, akin to a neatly trimmed bear.

His eyes were kind, but just beneath the surface she detected heat. Especially, when he mentioned his Cora's name. His skin was as smooth as rich dark chocolate, right down to the cuticles of his nails. His fingers were long and elegant, perfect for fondling a lucky woman's pleasure points. Shame on Cora for not taking this one to instruction. He appeared to be a willing student.

"Nathan, may I call you Nathan?" she asked before continuing, " I will endeavor to relieve you of your issue. However, you must bring Cora and yourself to me."

"What?" Nathan asked, feeling his cheeks suffuse in even more heat.

"Bring. Cora. Here," she repeated. "I could show you all the wonderful ways to please your wife, but you would be learning from me and not her. You'd only learn how to please me, not her. Now, judging by your demeanor and upbringing, it scares the Holy Jesus out of you to even think about cheating on your wife, even for the sake of saving your marriage. I can see you love your Cora very much, proof of that is in the fact you've come to this place of sin to seek help. So, fetch her, Nathan, and I will hep you both."

"But she'll hate me," he said, nervously, wringing his hands.

"Trust me, if she's a modern gal she'll be flattered you'd gone to the trouble," she said, turning her back to him, but not before tossing over her shoulder mysteriously, "Her experience would demand it."

Nathan started for the door, then glanced back at Calypso, who waved him on. Sighing, he opened the door and left. Calypso shook her head with a smirk, "Oh my Cora, you need a refresher. Badly."


An hour later, he returned to The Salon with a testy Cora in tow. She couldn't believe that her husband, Nathan (bible reading, tithing every Sunday, grace before even a snack Nathan) was taking her to the most notorious brothel in Charlotte. She was fuming when he told her that Madame Calypso had called her to the place. She was hot. Hot! However, there was a part of her that wondered what the seductress wanted. Lord knows she had tried everything within her power and know how. Sucking his dick made him giggle like a school girl; introducing a new vibrator made him faint; and when she even suggested a little anal play, he forced her on her knees alongside him to pray about it. She had gone to her wits end.

Now, Cora loved Nathan with all her heart. He had looked past her wicked ways (those he knew about) and saw the good person that she was. He was the first person to take her to a church and made her feel comfortable. He blessed her with a beautiful home and beautiful things. He was always kind and loving, gave her the right amount of hugs and kisses to get her started on her day at the hair salon that he helped her build. But he slacked in the bedroom. Now, with everything else he'd given her, why couldn't she overlook this? Because it was the one thing she was good at that he wasn't and she felt she had failed him as a lover. Now, she had to be dragged here to be taught how to teach - again.

She burst into the house and marched up the staircase without being told, Nathan following behind with a mild surprise in his eyes. He was worried Cora would make a scene. She made the right at the staircase like it was her house and swiftly opened the door to Madame Calypso's parlor.

Surprised, Nathan whispered, "Baby, how did you know-"

"Calypso!" she called out in high dungeon. "Get out here, you crazy battleaxe!"

"Cora," Calypso returned genteelly, emerging from the shadows of the room. "Welcome home."

Nathan gasped in surprise. "Cora? What she mean-"

"Nathan, I can explain all this," Cora tossed over her shoulder, staring Calypso down. Only, after a few moments of battling her old mentor with her eyes, she fell under the scrutiny.

"Let me," Calypso explained, satisfied she had corralled the woman's temper. "Cora was one of my best. She could wrap any man around her finger and make him do whatever she bid him do. However, Cora had a thing for the white powder and I could not stand by that at all. When it became unbearable, I cast her from The Salon years ago to get cleaned up. But I still kept my eyes on you, dearie. And I see you've found yourself a good, loving man, who is willing to put belief aside to please you. However, what happened, Cora? Lost your touch?"

Cora's eyes snapped up to snarl, "Damn you, y'old hag."

"I need to sit down," Nathan said easing into a seat. "Cora, you were a seductress like Madame Calypso?"

"Yes," Cora responded looking over at Nathan. Then rushing forward, she knelt before him to further explain, "But I swear, Nathan, that all ended when I found and married you."

"Maybe it shouldn't have," Calypso stated bluntly.

"What?!" they both hollered wide-eyed at the lady.

"Cora, your skill was to anticipate the experience of any man," she explained. "You were able to decipher what a man could handle and determine his needs without guidance. But you've become selfish in your lovemaking over the years and seek only your pleasures, when it should be a shared pleasure. That's room number one. Nathan is far behind you sexually to know what would turn you out. Slow and simple is what this man needs. He'll get there, eventually. Just give him time."

"But Calypso..."

"Listen to me, an angel can't fall to a devil over just one temptation," the madame smirked, heading toward the door to leave. "Find that old inner seductress that killed them softly. By the way, your room is still here, should you need it. Enjoy."

With that Calypso walked away from the parlor leaving Nathan and Cora staring dumbfounded after her. In essence, Calypso had given the same advice the reverend had tried to give her and Cora was feeling the sting of the shame. She should've known this and understood, but her mentor had pegged it. After leaving The Salon to sober up, she had somehow forgotten how to share pleasure, not just take it. That's why she had been so dissatisfied. Her role as the aggressor had robbed her of real pleasure and more importantly, robbed Nathan's.

Nathan was still trying to process everything he just learned tonight. His wife was a former employee of Madame Calypso, and by her opinion, the best one she had, and Cora still had a room in the place waiting on her. Oh Lord, have mercy. He looked shyly over at Cora to gauge her reaction and could see shame etch her beautiful face. Now he understood why his wife's demand of sex was so high, but Nathan was willing to learn, if she'd be willing to teach him. He loved her.

"Cora, it's alright. I understand you were a whole other person back then," he consoled her, drawing her closer to him. "I'm not ashamed of your past."

"It's not my past I'm ashamed of, Nathan," Cora explained, gently swiping at her tears. "Calypso is right. That damn Reverend Abernathy was right. I have become selfish. I guess I thought you were so good at being a good man that you should've known how to please me, but it was I who should've taught you. If you'll indulge me, Nathan, I want to make things right. Follow me."

Cora took his hand gently and led him out of the room and down the hall. She stood before her old room with a slight tremble in her hands. Squeezing her hand gently, Nathan gave her the strength. Grabbing the doorknob with a breath caught in her lungs, she swung the door open in flourish to reveal the room. Nathan was awed. It was all white - from the sheets to the curtains, to the rugs and furniture. It was a stark contrast to the whole house, like walking into the gates of heaven. Cora led Nathan to the plush bed and sat him down upon it. He was simply enthralled by the room's immaculate glow; like being in the clouds. In fact, when he looked up, the ceiling had a gorgeous mural of the heavens with doves and clouds. Serenity and peace.

Cora wandered over to the closet and threw open the doors. They were all still here, she thought as she fingered the various outfits in her wardrobe with remembrance. It hadn't been so bad back then, she recalled. What had made it so terrible were those moments she had been too high to know what she was doing or even enjoy it. Pulling a negligee from the closet, she glanced over at Nathan, then back at the outfit. This one was the right one. It was a simple, sleeveless sheath dress of a crisp white cotton with lacy trim. She quickly ducked behind the screen to change.

"Cora?" he called out to her.

"Hold on, Nathan," she said donning the outfit. Once everything was in place, she revealed herself to him coyly. "Yes, Nathan?"

Nathan's eyes popped out of his head. Cora looked stunning in the gorgeous gown. She had worn a lot of things to bed, such as, see-through nighties, corsets, crotchless panties, but this, this was definitely more his speed. The dress clung to her curves, accentuating her luscious hips. Her hair was unbound and hung loose about her, giving her the look of an angel. He felt a rush of heat crowd him, forcing him to loosen his bowtie. He could feel his manhood thicken, tightening his stomach, which was all aflutter. He licked his lips sweetly as he watched Cora approach him.

"Let me help you," Cora offered grabbing his bowtie to unravel, her eyes never breaking from his. She could see the adoration clear in his depths. "You can touch me if you want, Nathan."

Nathan exhaled the breath he was holding and found his hands. He began to touch the exposed skin of her arms. She was soft, but then again she was always soft. However, something about this time made her more so. His fingers ran along the line of her clavicle bone before settling on her bosom. He paused as if at a lost of what to do next. Cora wrapped her fingers around Nathan's hand and guided him down, encouraging him to cup the mound, which he did. Their eyes met again and Cora could see hot blooded passion coursing through her husband's eyes.

"What would you like, Nathan Briggs?" she asked sweetly touching his face.

"I want to kiss you," he said breathlessly.

She eased between his thighs slowly, giving her consent, "Then go ahead."

He brushed his hand against her cheek, drawing her lips down to his. She tasted so sweet, so delicious, like crisp lemonade on the hottest day. Their lips molded together gently, chastely. Cora brushed her tongue against his lips tentatively as if asking his permission. Nathan responded by opening his mouth to her. Soon, her tongue beckoned his forward to be suckled and toyed. Her lips sipped and re-sipped his mouth as if for the first time. The passion was building with furious measure that opened a maelstrom in her very core. They had made love a dozen or more times, but the intensity was sharper this time. With very little guidance, she taught Nathan how she liked to be kiss and he was mimicking her moves like a pro.

She trailed away from his lips to nibble along his jawline, then lavished kisses along his earlobe before sinking her teeth into the flesh of his neck, causing a shiver to jolt through him. She pulled away from him to look into his eyes again. Tracing his eyebrow line, she studied his features. He was such a handsome man. She loved his neatly trimmed goatee with his equally trimmed hair. His lips were so juicy, but his eyes were so gentle and caring. She took hold of his hands and studied them intently. They were always well-manicured. He made a point of it since it worked with plants all day. His fingers were long and thick, just right for what she needed. Taking hold of them, she led them on a journey of discovery.

"Touch me, Nathan," she whispered seductively.

"How?" he asked, innocently.

"Like this," she explained fanning his hands over her breasts. "Do you feel my nipples?"

Nathan nodded slowly, taking in how the tiny nubs hardened beneath his thumbs.

"Flick them, Nathan. Flick softly," she instructed, trying to hold back a moan inching up her throat.

Nathan did as Cora asked and watched with delight as she swayed in pleasure beneath this simple touch. A moan final escaped Cora's lips as drew his head closer to her. Instinctively, his lips found her neck and he began to nibble the flesh there just as she had done to him earlier, never breaking his gentle ministration of her breasts, which were now fully engulfed by his hands. Tiny ripples flowed sensuously through her body. She was reveling in his touches as his hands worked downward. Soon, Nathan's hands found her hips and booty and began to knead them with the same pressure he had breasts, causing her moans to get louder.

Cora reached for the buttons on his shirt and began to pop them off one by one until she had reached the hem. Then she eased the shirt and jacket combo off his shoulders to reveal a stark white tank. Refusing to be denied his skin, she tore the undershirt from him and tossed it behind her. Then she began to taste his shoulders and chest like a ravenous cat lapping at a bowl of fresh milk. She gently pushed Nathan back on the bed, but paused to rethink the move. If she did this then she would be the aggressor again, not the teacher. Nathan needed to drive this bus, despite the fact she was hot for him already. She soon redirected her body to lay beside him, drawing Nathan up on his elbow to gaze down on her.

Cora glanced up at Nathan, who admired her from head to toe. Touching his chin, she drew his eyes to her. "What do you want to do, Nathan?" she asked sweetly.

"Taste you," he admitted licking his lips.

"Where?" she asked with a ragged breath.

Instead of answering, Nathan drew back her straps on her dress until her breasts eased out of the cups, exposing her to him. His hand cupped one mound firmly as his lips enclosed over the other. She could feel the rough side of his tongue lick and flick her nipple, savoring the texture and feel of it in his month. Moans began to ravage her throat as she tried to hold onto her control. Cora's hands kept busy kneading the muscles of his shoulders. Otherwise she would've flipped him over and ridden him like a stallion. Soon, she felt Nathan's hands at her thighs, lifting her dress. He eased the material over her body, then over her head, but it was like one big caress. Cora's body shivered from the pleasure Nathan was bringing her.

Nathan eased off the bed to unbuckle his pants, then he eased the pants down to reveal his turgid flesh, which made Cora's mouth water. She loved sucking Nathan's dick, but he was so freaking ticklish down there that she spent half the time calming him down than treating him to pleasure. However, the view of him now was wiping away the annoyance and replacing it with a heavier need. He knelt onto the bed, dipping it slightly under his weight. Cora's hands immediately reached out to touch his skin. Her lips soon followed as she placed kisses up and down his chest.

Nathan leaned in and began kissing his wife's neck, then worked his way down over her breasts to her stomach, leaving a steamy trail. Cora perked up on her elbows in surprise at where he was going. He'd never gone down on her before and she was pleasantly shocked that he wanted to go there now. Suddenly, she gasped in the most precious delight as she felt his very hot tongue stroke her folds. Her moan arrested his movements.

"Cora?" he called with concern. "You alright, baby."

"Yes, Nathan, oh yes," she assured him, gently pushing his head back down. "You just surprised me, is all."

"You taste so sweet, baby," he whispered against her thigh.

Cora tried her hardest to hold back the moans battling at the gates of her throat. She didn't want to scare Nathan off from his task. She was in utter amazement at his natural skill. Why had he never done this before? she thought to herself. Then remembered that because she had been the aggressor Nathan barely had enough time to explore her before she was already riding him like a government mule. Suddenly, he flicked his tongue over her spot and Cora lost it. The tremors deep within began to shake her legs widely and the moans tore from her lungs in waves.

"Oh God, Nathan, keep doing that, baby," she screamed, grasping his head, riding the pleasure.

"You sure I'm not hurting you?" he asked uncertainly.

"No, baby," she rasped, then grabbing his hands she closed over his thumb, pinky and index leaving his ring and middle finger extended. "Nathan, use these two inside me," she instructed through the haze of pleasure. "Use them like you'd use your manhood. Easy and gentle. Oh, and keep licking."

Nathan nodded slowly before returning his lips to her swollen clit, and as she had instructed, he pushed the two fingers deep into Cora forcing her hips to buck upwards in pleasure. Then using his instinct, he began to slide his hand in and out, changing speeds here and there to keep Cora guessing. Cora groaned in exquisite pleasure as she rode Nathan's digits. She could feel another orgasm cresting through her body, but this time she wanted all of him, not just his fingers. Grasping at his shoulders, she pulled Nathan over her quivering flesh.

"Take me, Nathan," she begged shamelessly. "Claim me."

Nathan hovered over her entrance tentatively, then she could feel him fill her with his flesh. She never complained about his size because he was perfect in that regard and with the way he was stroking and stoking her fire, she earnestly believe she wasn't walking out of The Salon. Nathan would need to carry her out of there.

Nathan was enjoying the sights and sounds of the pleasure being wrung from his wife. He never realized just how little it took to make her this happy. Imagine how much happier she'd be when he was up to her speed. The way her face contorted in pleasure made him want to do more to keep her this way.

He leaned down just over her lips, whispering honestly, "I love you, Cora."

Cora glanced up into his eyes and felt the sting of tears gathering in her own, "I love you, too, Nathan."

Just then an orgasm ripped through both their bodies, shaking them to the core as Nathan spilled his love all inside his beautiful wife. Cora had pushed her hips into his taking every last drop of essence from him before crashing against the bed in pure exhaustion. There they lay taking in all they had done, marinating in their love and passion.

Just outside the door, Calypso smiled, pleased with herself. She was glad that Cora had unleashed the lover from within her husband. It was Calypso's firm belief that any man or woman could be a great lover, if they had an unselfish teacher. With that done, she took the gentleman's offered arm and led him down the hall to her quarters.

"All's right with the world again, wouldn't you agree, Reverend Abernathy?" she chortled with a wink before closing the door.

Selfish

You looked good this morning coming out of the shower. The drops from the shower licked you in just the right places. Kind of like watery glitter against a chocolaty night sky. Then you almost undid me completely when you started rubbing that shea butter baby oil gel all over that body. Girl, you did this to me. The way you bent over to run the gel from you ankle to your thigh covering every inch of skin in between, then you massaged it back down. Mmph, you know.

I watched you from the reflection in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.Your hair tumbled down your back in a long wave of silken sable. Not an indent could be found, not a strand out of place. Your eyes turned to me with a coy smirk, issuing me a promise for later. I giggled to myself as I sat back and studied you, putting on your lips gloss. It was fluid how the gel glided across that sumptuous pout. Then your hand was steady as you applied that charcoal mascara to your almond eyes making them stand straight like tiny stilettos. And that was all you needed. Fuck, I wanted to take you then, but you were late and we needed to get on our grustle.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking about all the things I would do to you when we got home. I pictured myself rubbing those delectable breasts, inhaling their scent, measuring their hefty. Then I imagined you laying back as I fondled each and every nook of your fine looking frame. Your eyes peered over at the clock on your desk and you smirked prettily. You quickly picked up your keys and stuff and bolted for the door.

In the car, you blasted Robin Thicke's album, Sex Therapy The Experience as you weaved your way through traffic. I listened intently to the lyrics, making mental note of the different suggestions he had to offer, all while you hummed along. As you parked your car in the garage, I could smell your essence rising from the driver seat. It became intoxicating in its floral essence.

My plans to woo you with dinner and a bath went right out the window. As you soon as you stepped into the crib, I had to have you. Time was limited. You tore out of your suit jacket, blouse and skirt with a flourish, then you stood before the mirror admiring your framework as did I. The lacy black bra and panty set molded to your full curves like a second skin, accented with a vixen's touch by the garter and thigh high combination.

Plucking the garter straps, you never broke eye contact with me, as you rolled the hosiery slowly down your leg in one big caress; repeating the tactic with the other. Then you unwind that bun from your head, allowing the sable blanket of your hair to fall against your chocolaty shoulders like a cape. We still watched each other. You coyly blinking your lashes at me, tempting me beyond reason or control. I wanted to fuck you and fuck you hard. Sigh, but alas, you were in control.

Your hands reached behind you to release your bra. As you undid the bounds, it sprang forward like a Jack-in-the-Box into your waiting arms, where you casually tossed it aside. Then your fingers entwined around the edges of your panties, tugging them down your leg like you had done the hose. It too was tossed carelessly aside to the floor.

Now, it was my chance to touch. I went straight for those breasts. They were like chocolate Kisses, sweet and hard. As my fingers latched on, I massaged them with precision and care, tugging them with the right amount of pressure, forcing a moan to slip your pouty lips. Lifting them up, I inhaled the perfume that still lingered there from the morning's shower. Cautiously, I ran my hand over your flat stomach, loving the soft feel of the flesh here, pausing only slight to fondle the deep navel. As I drew closer to your muff, I could see you blush with anticipation.

God, you're so beautiful, I utter to myself. You giggle at the visual compliment I give you before rolling onto the waiting bed. I follow along mapping out where else I would touch you. I run my nails up your thigh and along your buttocks smiling as I hear your giggly moan resonate in the room. I raise the flowers of your chest to my lips and flick a tongue to the stiffened nipple. You, in turn, lick your lips hungrily watching it react to my ministrations.

With both hands I juggle your bosom with delight and awe, before allowing one hand to stray away. Carefully, I paw at the slit you graciously offer me, already feeling the signs of your dew seeping through. It's heady and slick against my fingers, drawing me to seek its warmth. Finally, I crack the oyster open to submerge into its depth and encounter an immoveable, fleshy pearl. I twirl my middle finger around it and its sleek edges. With each twist of my hand, your moans deepen and deepen. You try to hold them back by biting your lip, but it becomes unbearable as I keep flicking the hot little pearl.

I want to hear you scream, I tell you with my eyes. You had turned away to gaze into the mirror, but I drew your attention back to me when I delve my fingers deeper into your depths, tickling the silken tunnel to life. I stretched and fondled until I saw you raise your hips in response. I knew just what this called for. Never breaking my touching, I reached into the nearby draw and pulled your favorite toy from the bottom: a dark chocolate dildo shaped to the exact specifications of our current beloved. I laughed to myself as you quickly take it from my grasp to devour for a moment.

Then you relinquish it back to me, your gaze a haze of desire percolating to the brink. Handling the dilly with expertise, I feel my intensity and anticipation growing. You bite your lips sharply trying to keep a moan from escaping, but that's what I want to hear. Gingerly, I hover the rod at your entrance, then with a wicked smirk I switch it on and watch your reaction as your hips raise up off the mattress to a chorus of gasps and moans. The words are caught in your mouth and I know just how to wrench them out. At your insistence, I nudge the dildo forward to the hilt.

Your hips in response begin to bounce and wave. The motions are smooth and steady and begin to pick up speed. I can hear your voice grow ragged and unsteady, tiny curses drip from your lips. It feels so good, filling your little hole. I can feel you constrict the toy, pushing it out with your pussy muscles, then draw it back in. Suddenly, you roll over onto your knees and begin to ride the wave. Your fingers, my fingers make quick work of your clit. The knot that begins to unravel, begins to shake the walls around us. Your hips begin to move furiously and your moans get harder and harder.

In your passionate haze, you whip your head toward me and smile wickedly before succombing to the pleasure. The shaking subsides as you lay on the bed collecting your thoughts. We are sated and loving the afterglow. I don't know how long we sat enjoying the moment, but the keys in the door signaled more pleasure to be had and we giggled to ourselves. Sometimes, you just got to be selfish.

Vanilla and Caramel

1969 Tennessee
She strolled up the town street like she belonged there. In her hand, she carried a simple light blue suitcase indicating she had just come off the bus that was now prattling down the road. Her long chestnut locks hung down in a wild array of curls, tamed back only with a simple baby blue kerchief. Her skin was the richest caramel he had ever seen, especially for these parts. Her khaki short shorts with matching button down blouse was not leaving much to the imagination of passersby. The heat was leaving a light sheen of perspiration on her brow, but it didn't stay long since she used her lengthy, elegant arm to swipe it away. She wore large white sunglasses that covered a good part of her face, but her pouty, glossy lips were on full display and quite plentiful.

Cooper Crenshaw was simply enthralled. He watched her from his squad car as she peeped into the various windows of the small town. She looked like a movie star. Her body definitely gave Miss Sophia Loren a run for her money. Exotic was the word for her curves. Her graceful and purposeful walk drew many eyes to stare at her; namely, the boys hanging outside the barber shop.

Yep, she definitely wasn't from around these parts. He would've recognized her right off the bat. Girls like her didn't exist around there. Suddenly, his caramel starlet stopped in her tracks. He watched as she glanced about, as if she knew someone was watching her. Then like a scene right out the movies, her gaze fell on him. He could feel the air thicken as well as a certain member of his. He took a deep breath, nudging the base of his palm on it to ease the pressure. However, it wasn't easy since a slow, seductive smile crossed her lips as if she knew her effect on him, sending another jolt to his man parts. Blushing virgin she was not that was for sure. Coop swallowed the lump forming in his throat as she approached his squad car. Her hips created their own rhythm as if Wilson Picket's Mustang Sally was playing just for her to walk to.

She stopped by the side of his car, placing a well manicured hand on the door. She leaned forward, unleashing the scent of a heady, yet sweet perfume and revealing a gorgeous bouquet of cleavage. Coop's eyes quickly gauged their size before meeting her still obscured eyes. They were large and well-rounded, like ripen melons from Old Man Hicks' farm. He tried to swallow the pesky lump again.

"Excuse me, officer, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Mama Maybelle's?" she asked sweetly in a thick New England accent.

Surprised by her request, Coop answered, "Well, that's just up the way here on the right, but what would you want with Ma Maybelle's? That's a colored coffee shop."

She smiled as if secreting a tease, then removing her sunglasses revealing a stunning pair of hazel brown eyes, she said simply, "I know, she's my aunt."

With that said, she straightened up and strutted away leaving Coop flabbergasted. She was colored? No, not as light skinned as she was. Was she a half and half? Sure, she was more caramel then the other white girls he knew, but still she passed more for white than black. Despite this new information, Coop still found himself enthralled by her. She seemed so worldly and sophisticated, nothing like the other girls in the town, who were giddy over their Beatles records. He glanced around to see other folks watching her. Once they saw her passover the tracks - the colored side -, he recognized the hostility brewing in their eyes. Even though segregation was falling all over the country, some small towns had yet to catch up. Coop was one of the few white officers who regularly patrolled over the tracks. He liked sitting in Ma Maybelle's to listen to the newest Motown joint. However, he knew some folks still got testy when a half-and-half, like his caramel starlet, showed up, messing with their twisted sense of order. Unsure for her safety, Coop jumped out of his car and jogged over to her.

"Hey, wait," he called, after her.

Caramel stopped to wait for him to meet up with her with a furrowed brow. "Is there something wrong, officer?" she asked.

"I thought I'd escort you over to Ma Maybelle's," he offered.

Carmen looked the man up and down. For a white boy, he wasn't bad on the eyes. His dark blond hair shun from beneath his police cap. His eyes were the darkest blue she'd ever seen and his skin was rich like freshly churned vanilla ice cream. He was muscular, tall, too. Taller than earlier believed, when he had been sitting in his squad car checking her out. And he had been checking her out. When she felt his gaze on her earlier, she felt the accompanying heat that had come with it. He'd touched her without even lifting a finger. His very eyes had stroked her from heal to toe and left no surface on touched. She wondered at how she had hidden the slight tremor that had shivered through her. This chemistry had been instant - and dangerous.

She hadn't been sure what kind of white boy she had been dealing with. She felt bad for bursting his bubble with the stark realization she wasn't one of his own. But somehow, she felt it hadn't mattered all that much to him. The funny thing was this wouldn't have been too big a problem if she was up North. It definitely wouldn't have been a problem at all in Paris, where she had spent a good part of winter this year before deciding to look up her aunt. But Southerners, white boys to be exact, liked to fantasize about their caramels and chocolates, but were hard pressed to act on it except in violent manners. At least, she'd heard enough horror stories to know not to rile up one of the good ol' boys.

"I'm sure I'd make it there just fine," she assured him, continuing to walk toward Mama Maybelle's.

"But still, I'd like to," he insisted, taking up step with her. "Sometimes folks can misunderstand..."

"What I am?" she finished with a smile. "My folk can recognize their own."

He blushed at her forwardness - and tease. He glanced down at his shiny shoes before saying, "I guess my folk don't do that well."

Suddenly, a loud booming voice called out, "Carmen? Carmen baby, is that you?!"

They watched a heavy set black woman come jogging out of the coffee shop wearing a red checkered apron and white dress. She was panting something fierce with worry and concern wrinkling her brow. It was Maybelle.  "Officer Crenshaw, is ever'thang alright?" she asked catching her breath.

"Yes, ma'am, Ms. Maybelle, everything's just fine," he assured her. "I was just making sure your, ah, niece made it to you with no trouble."

"Oh, thank you, sir," she stated, hugging her beloved niece. "You find it okay?"

"Yes I did, auntie," she assured the woman. "Crenshaw here was doing his duty by making sure I made it to where I belonged." Carmen threw Coop a sideways smile, sharing the joke with him before offering her hand to the woman. "Now, let's not keep him from his duties, auntie."

Maybelle nodded taking the lady's hand and walking off back to the coffee shop. The old woman glanced back to see the officer still watching her niece. Maybelle liked the boy. He wasn't like the other white officers of the town. He treated them fair and kind. She could always count on Coop to be there to make sure everyone was alright and that she got home safe from locking up the shop. However, she prayed the look in his eyes wasn't what she thought it was. "Uh-oh, I think you may have gotten Coopy's attention," she warned her niece, who glanced back at the man.

"I thought your white boy's had an aversion to chocolate?" Carmen said, glancing back briefly at the man.

"He's a special one," Maybelle answered with a shake of her head. "I think somewhere in his heart he got a little chocolate in him. He comes into the coffee shop at least once or twice a day to 'check' on me. I know he's looking for the latest Supremes' record and a piece of my pecan pie. It's the best in the county."

Carmen giggled with her aunt before returning her gaze to the officer standing in the middle of the street. So, white boy liked the Supremes, huh? she thought wistfully. Their gazes met again and electrified the air. He had certainly caught her eye, but knowing how things were in these parts, Carmen knew she'd have no shot. Too bad. Too, too bad. She would've liked to have a taste.


The next day Cooper was enjoying his day off at the lake fishing. His mind, however, wasn't completely on the fish, but a certain lil' lady. Since meeting his Caramel Carmen, yesterday, he had fantasized about her all night. Her eyes, her lips, her skin haunted his thoughts. His cock had been at attention the whole night leaving him restless. God, she was a beauty; his own Hollywood movie siren. He inhaled deeply trying to quell the desire pumping through his veins, fueling his johnson. Shaking his head, he cast his reel into the lake. The last thing he wanted to do was court trouble. But he couldn't deny she was making an impression on him. Last evening, he even tried to catch her over at Ma Maybelle's, but had been informed by Clara the waitress that she and her aunt had gone back to Maybelle's for family dinner with Carl, Maybelle's husband.

Coop had decided just as well. The last thing he needed was to court trouble. But still, he couldn't help himself and decided that morning to stop over at Maybelle's to 'check on things' and to see how Carmen had settled in; only to learn from Maybelle herself that her niece was sleeping in and wouldn't be by until later on. Just as well, the last thing he needed was to court trouble. Coop checked his watch and could see that noon was an hour away. Maybe she was heading over to Maybelle's now. Shaking his head with a smirk, he chastised himself for acting like a school boy with a crush. Suddenly, something caught his eye from across the pond.

He didn't have to look twice to know who it was. Today, she wore a short, yellow linen shirt with a stark white, button down, short sleeve blouse. Her feet were bare as she paddled down the dock. Her long hair was pulled back into a lush ponytail. The same sunglasses from yesterday hid her eyes, but those lips. Damn, those lips were still on display. Coop just stared at her, his fishing rod nearly falling out of his hand as he stood barefoot near the banks. He had donned a pair of beat up jeans, which he had rolled up mid calf to wade into the pond, and a fresh, short sleeved navy blue crew neck shirt. The color brought out the gold highlights of his hair and the blue of his eyes.

Once again, as if she knew someone was watching, Carmen glanced up and spotted Coop across the way. She smiled cheerfully, raising a delicate limb to wave coyly at him before returning her gaze to the book. He mimicked the same motion unconsciously, spellbound by her radiance. The sun was hitting her just right and he could make out the faintest outline of her white bikini top beneath the shirt. Staring closer, he made out two faint bumps on her breasts indicating the location of her nipples. Lord, have mercy, he was smitten and aroused. Inhaling deeply, he tried once again to control his desire for her, but he was loosing. Grabbing his pole and tackle, he marched over to the other side of  lake.

Carmen sat on the dock edge with her feet dangling in the water. Her legs were slender, but at the same time full of muscle. Coop's eyes followed the full length of her from her pink painted toes to the nape of her long neck. Setting his pole and tackle down on the dock he approached Carmen, who was engrossed in her book and not paying much attention to anything else. He had stuck his hands in his pockets hoping to minimize the appearance of his lil' traitor.

After a shy moment, he finally opened his mouth to say, "Hi, Carmen." Not expecting the girl to shriek in surprise and fall into the water. Reacting on his police instinct, he dove in after her.

Seconds later, Carmen came up sputtering out of the water, followed by Coop who had immediately latched onto her waist. Once she felt secure in his arms, she grasped his shoulders to catch a breath and keep afloat. She felt him touch her cheek gently. "You all right?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly before answering, "I think so." Then in the same instant, she hit him on the shoulder scolding, "You shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that."

"I'm sorry, I thought you heard me coming," he apologized lamely, dragging her to the dock.

"Oh, wait, my book," she said reaching for the soaked literature floating out toward the center of the lake. Coop made sure she had a hold of the dock leg before swimming out to grab her book. Carmen watched as his strong arms dove in and out of the water smoothly. She also had a view of his backside plastered in those jeans. Her breath caught in her throat and caused her nethers to constrict. As Coop swam back to her, he tossed the book on the dock before reaching out for her to take his hand. Carmen looked at the offered hand then the man.

Oh no, this was getting too close to the fire, Carmen thought, feeling her heat pool around her leg. He had been the very reason she had been so distracted. When she'd seen him earlier she had to force herself to look away.  She vowed to keep her focus on her book not the cutie from across the way. But while she had tried doing that she still had found herself really focused on him. Last night, she had gone to bed thinking about her officer man. His blue eyes kept hounding her. They were sweet and imploring, making her insides melt. Her tongue slowly moistened her lips drawing his eyes to her mouth, then back up. Almost as if she had read his mind, Carmen jumped into his waiting embrace and kissed him passionately. Coop was awed by her brazenness, but quickly recovered and responded to her by wrapping his hands around her.

Her tongue licked his tentatively, tasting the smooth texture. "Mmm, just like vanilla," she sighed breathlessly against his lips.

Coop was mesmerized by her husky voice. It cast a spell on him and his body. He took hold of the nape of her neck and drew her back in for a kiss. Mimicking her motion, he too tasted her. "Just like I thought, caramel," he smiled against her mouth.

Carmen laughed merrily as she wrapped her arms about his neck. "I take it your not opposed," she stated sensuously rubbing her breast against his chest.

"No ma'am," he assured her drawing her closer to his body.

"I must be quite a sight," she said running a hand over her head to wring out her ponytail. "Something equivalent to a water rat."

"I ain't ever seen a water rat that looked this good," he joked.

Carmen giggled sheepishly before replying, "Thank you... I think."

Two red splotches popped on his cheek over his blunder, but Carmen smoothed them away with her hand. "I'm never this forward, but there's something about you, Vanilla," she admitted, running her fingers along his jawline.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he processed her words. "What?" he asked.

"You're different then the others around here," she stated. "You look like a man who wants to see the world through a different pair of shades."

"How so?" he asked.

"For one thing, you're not shy about kissing me openly, which leads me to believe you don't follow the practices of your upbringing," she pointed out.

Coop smiled slowly before answering, "Maybe to me beauty don't have a color code."

Carmen giggled, placing a kiss on his lips. "And I fit with your image of beauty?" she implored running a finger over his chest.

"Oh, yeah, you sure do," he exhaled drawing her in for another deep kiss.

After a long minute of exploring each others' mouths, Carmen whispered against his lips, "We better get out of this water before we wrinkle to death."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Coop apologized before lifting her onto the docks, then swiftly followed after her. "I'll get you back to Maybelle's," he offered shuffling passed her as if coming to his senses.

Carmen grabbed his hand, halting his motion. "I don't need to go back to Maybelle's. You got anyplace quiet, Vanilla?" she asked, desire dripping from her voice.

Coop swallowed again. Despite the chill from the dunk he took, his body was overheating from the sensuous looks coming from Carmen's eyes. His dick was boring a hole in his tightening jeans and his breathing was getting short. She wanted him, which was obvious by the way she raked her eyes over him, and he had to admit he wanted her, too. His lake house wasn't too far from the docks. He had inherited it from his grandpa not too long ago. Since he had only just moved there, he wouldn't be disturbed by pesky visitors. He looked in the direction of the path, then Carmen. Taking her hand, he dragged her along with him.

As they walked a mossy path, Carmen studied the large wooden cabin coming up in front of them. It was gorgeous and well built, with a porch on the second floor that overlooked the trees to the lake. Coop dumped his fishing gear by the stoop, then quickly opened the door. Turning back, he invited her in. Carmen knew she was taking a big risk coming here, but something told her it was safe. Looking back at her Vanilla, she could tell he was trying hard to be a gentleman, despite situation.

Coop closed the door and stood watching Carmen. She peeled her hair out of ponytail and rang her hair out in the nearby sink, which prompted him to retrieve a towel from the rack. She graciously took it to dry her hands. While she did, Coop began to peel out of his wet shirt, exposing his muscular chest to Carmen, who stood mesmerized. Dropping the towel, she quickly sauntered to where he was and began touching his skin. He looked down at her, studying her studying him. His breath was ragged as he watched her caress every inch of his chest with keen interest. Then he inhaled deeply when her lips touched his peck gently. They were soft and fluttery as they traced a path from one peck to the other. Her tongue then retraced the same steps, licking up the moisture running in rivulets down his body.

Wanting to feel more of her against him, Coop circled his strong arms around her slowly. God, she was so soft. His fingers unlaced the tie for her skirt and let it drop to the floor in a wet heap. Glancing down he saw that she indeed was wearing a white string bikini bottom. Pulling back further, he slowly undid the buttons of her shirt, which was plastered to her body like a second skin outlining the matching bikini top. It too joined the skirt in the growing pile. He stared at her framework in complete admiration. Her hips were full, but trim and her breasts high. He wanted to lick every droplet off her, jealous that they were that close to her.

His fingers reached out and touched her flat stomach, causing it to retract as if burned. He looked into her eyes and could see the desire building up by the second. Carmen reached behind her neck and unlaced the bikini top, unleashing to his eyes her beautiful bounty. They rose and fell with each ragged breath, keeping him hypnotized like a snake listening to the chant of a charmer. Her nipples were a dusky beige, but quickly darkened into hard little nubs under his scrutiny. Fascinated, Coop drew closer placing his mouth on one to suckle deeply.

Carmen moaned with pleasure as felt his tongue flick and titillate her bosom. Then he quickly sought the other breast, treating it to much of the same. His hands then sandwich the twin mounds together so that he could enjoy both at the same time. Carmen was twisting in pleasure as his hot tongue devoured her. She drew his mouth back to hers and began to drink from him. Her tongue did a good job of sipping every corner of his mouth feeling the ridge of his jaw to the enamel of his teeth.

She pulled away to sample his jawline and neck and found herself enthralled by his protruding Adam's Apple. She rolled it over her tongue like she was licking a jawbreaker. Then she maneuvered over his shoulders and gently bite down on the flesh there, causing Coop to inhale sharply from the sting. Pulling away, she eyed her work and was pleased by the love mark she had left. She was branding him hers.

"Sorry, Vanilla," she apologized rubbing the spot. "I didn't mean to burn you."

"I can take whatever fire you throw at me, Caramel," he assured her as his fingers unlaced the sides of her bikini bottom. Stepping back, he looked down at her in all her splendor. The pressure had become unbearable. His cock was now throbbing at a heart stopping pace begging for release from its confines. Coop reach for the buttons, only to have Carmen usurp the task. Never breaking their gaze, she swiftly and carefully unzipped his jeans, allowing his member to fall right into her welcoming hands.

Coop gasped at the feel of her warm skin against his member. The gentleness and care she took with it as she moved it from hand to hand. A hungry gleam fell across her eyes as she licked her lips. He was so big, bigger than she had anticipated. She could feel the veins pulsing with hot blood against her palms. Studying his dick, she made note that the rich vanilla color extended down even to this part of him, with hues of pink along the edges. She wanted to taste him - bad.

She looked into his eyes searching for how experienced he was, then asked seductively, "Vanilla, have you ever been tasted before?"

"Depends on where you're talking about," he stated breathlessly.

She squeezed her hand around his cock indicating the exact location. This made breathing even more difficult, so much so that all Coop could do was shake his head in response. Liking that answer, Carmen fell to her knees before his member and swiftly took it into her mouth. The motion started slow as she measured and tasted his manly spice. He smelled like fresh soap with the faintest hint of his man essence. Her lips could feel the ridges of his dick as it drew in and out over her tongue. She felt his fingers intertwine within the strands of her hair, guiding her head as his hips took up the rhythm as well.

"Carmen," he whispered her name huskily. "God that feels so good."

Coop was caught in a the most unbelievable rage of desire. Never in all his twenty-four years had a woman tasted him this way. The feel of her lips and her cheeks squeezing and sucking him was more than he could stand. He watched as Carmen worked her magic on him like some voodoo sex priestess. His body was reacting to her as if she was the only woman he would ever share this kind of intimacy with. Feeling the stirrings of a climax coming, Coop dragged Carmen up from the floor and began to kiss her with all the passion and need he was feeling right then.

Suddenly, something inside of him wanted to taste her just as she had tasted him. Lifting her onto the counter, he drew her hips up to his waiting lips. His eyes studied the flower before him, drenched in a slick dew begging to be sipped. The folds were contracting as if beckoning him to kiss them and just above them was a small nub pushing against the hood seeking his attention. Coop looked up at Carmen, whose eyes were a curtain of desire and raw need, and lowered his mouth to her garden. Carmen's head fell back in pleasure as soon as his lips met his target. He was gentle as he licked the nub sweetly causing moan on top of moan to sing from her lips.

Carmen placed her hand on his head to guide him to her favorite spot. "Yes, Vanilla, right there, flick that tongue right there," she commanded faintly. She was feeling dizzy from the climax that was starting to tingle through her body. Suddenly, Coop had found her spot and a gush of raw passion ooze out of Carmen drenching his tongue in the sweetest liquid he'd ever tasted.

"You taste so good, Caramel," he whispered against her inner thigh, lapping up the stray juices. "But we ain't done, are we? You fixing to teach me something else."

Carmen was trying to control the spasms that shook her legs as well as her breathing. "Oh, you are a good student," she sighed, sitting up. "Let's take this to the bedroom."

Swooping her in his arms he carried her into his bedroom. There, he laid her on her back gently taking her all in as she writhed beneath his eyes. He ran a hand down her middle and settled on the still quivering flesh. Then he pushed his finger inside of her gauging her slickness. She was more than ready for him and he couldn't take much more. Pushing her thigh open with his knee, he lined himself up. His cock pulsed at her entrance, begging to be let in. Coop however wanted to take it easy. He wanted to feel every moment of this. He leaned down and kissed Carmen sweetly before allowing himself into her welcoming depths. He swallowed the moans that sprang from her throat as he continued to thrust deeper and deeper into her core. The heat and the friction were like nothing he'd ever experienced. His dreams hadn't even touched what he was feeling right there with her.

"Uh, Carmel," he growled against her neck. He dug his fingers beneath her hips, pulling her closer to him. Raising up on his knees, he pumped his hips vigorously into her, using his hands to draw her hips in and out
of her soft recess. Carmen grabbed at the sheets as if grabbing for dear life. Her screams of passion echoed his groans. She could feel herself coming and shattering all at once. Coop, feeling her tiny muscles clench him, begging him to follow, made one last final deep thrust inside of her, stretching her with his rod and filling her with his seed as a growl of satisfaction died on his lips.

Spent and trembling, he fell down upon Carmen. After a second to catch his breath, he quickly rolled onto his back dragging her with him so that she covered his body. His hands kneaded her rear mounds possessively, refusing to break the contact. They were both breathless in their abandon taking in the moment they just shared. Something in the air said that this was a moment that needed to happen again and again for their entire lifetime. Coop touched her cheek gently, studying her face with all sincerity, before saying, "Have you ever heard of love at first sight?"

Carmen chuckled giddily at him before placing a kiss on his lips. "Yeah, but this is the first time it's hit me, Vanilla. Maybe we should do this again to be sure."

Coop laughed out loud before drawing his Caramel to him. It was definitely going to be a long hot summer.